


DickTiger week 2020

by an_angel_on_earth



Category: DCU, Grayson (Comics)
Genre: Don't Examine This Too Closely, I'm just too tired rn, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, dicktiger week 2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:26:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22780195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_angel_on_earth/pseuds/an_angel_on_earth
Summary: I'm actually trying to do this! Fell in love with the ship while reading the Grayson comics, decided to give this a go bc it's just a beautiful pairing that deserves more content.Prompts:Day one: BirthdayDay two: MonsterDay three: Formal eventDay four: Skipping for now due to lack of ideasDay five: First kiss
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Tiger
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	1. Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> I'm already late! I wrote this, like, late at night (which is why I kinda want to rewrite some of the ending/all of it at a much later date), and had rehearsal all of monday, so yay for me, I'm gonna be messed up unless I can fit two fics in one day sometime later. It's probs my fault for getting caught up in the fic and making it longer than I should have. Anyways, enjoy!

Every muscle in Tiger's body was aching in protest as he rolled out of bed, already seeking out the warmth that's missing from where it should be beside him. That's odd. Usually Dick's still fast asleep when he wakes up for prayer. Oh well, he has a few minutes before he has to, and if Dick isn't in their bedroom, he's probably in the gym. Working out helps to get him over the nightmares, Tiger's been around him for long enough to know that. Taking a few seconds to get dressed, he’s out the door within the minute.  
St. Hadrian's not much of a home. It's where Spyral is located, it's where he's spent too much of his life, but Tiger would hardly call it that. A home is where you feel safe, secure, where you can relax. The halls he walks down are familiar, but he's tense, unable to shake off the feeling of being watched. Even without the Hypnos in his eyes. He figures it must be even worse for Dick, to be forced out of his life in Bludhaven and sent to another country to live another life. Which would explain the grunts he can hear before he even opens the door to the gym.  
“What’d the punching bag ever do to you, Grayson?” He walks up to his side, watching how Dick’s wrapped fists drop to his side, no doubt hurt from overexertion. From the looks of things, he’s been here for a while, pushing himself to the limits and not caring if he falls over them. His knuckles are bloody, turning the white cloth red and pink. Tiger tries not to let his horror show. He doesn’t even know if Dick’s noticed it yet.  
It takes a while for his breathing to even out, there’s a time spent in close silence before Dick can actually talk again. “Couldn’t sleep.” he pants, chest heaving and sweat dripping down, soaking the back of the thin shirt he’s got on. “Couldn’t stop thinking ‘bout next week.”  
Tiger frowned. As far as he knew, they didn’t have anything going on. Unless Matron was sending him on another mission. But then she would have told Tiger about it, the two were partners. “What’s going on?” he asks, initially scared of upsetting Dick again but quickly coming to the conclusion that he really does need more context.  
“Saw ‘n article online. He’s throwing a fucking gala. ‘Posed to be in my honor since Gotham thinks that I, ya’know, kicked the can. Couldn’t be bothered to fucking lemme know. Happy damn birthday to me.” For all the times Tiger had called Dick an idiot, there were times when that applied to himself as well. He should have known.  
Birthdays were a luxury that Tiger had never really partaken in. Once a year, he was officially a year older, and he tried not to think of it too hard. He never understood those who had big celebrations. Congratulations, you’ve been around for another cycle of 365 days, who needs a party for that? But Dick? This would be his first birthday without his family around, and he seems like the type who would usually celebrate.  
“I’m sorry.” What is he supposed to say? “You’ll see them again though, I promise.” Dick’s hands are smaller than his, and fit perfectly when he grabs them, carefully undoing the wrappings and rubbing his thumb over the exposed skin. There’s too much blood, dark against his tan skin, and Tiger frowns.  
“Why do you do this to yourself?” he wants to ask, wants to kiss every knuckle and take away the pain. “Why do you push yourself so hard, why do you want it to hurt, why do you need the pain? Why do you love falling, leaping without looking, why do I follow you? Why did I give you my heart when you never even asked for it?”  
Prayer can wait. He guides Dick to the side, sitting him down on the floor while he grabs a first aid kit, rubbing ointment into the cuts. It’s not the worst injuries he’s had, not by a long shot, but it hurts. It’s like a knife cutting into Tiger’s heart, tearing at his emotions, bleeding out his love.

A week later, Tiger wishes that bloody knuckles were all that he had to worry about. His own are white as he clutches the steering wheel, weaving in and out of traffic while bullets whiz by. For what it’s worth, at least there’s not that many people around, and those who are on the roads are smart enough to get out of the way once they know what’s going on. He’s tried to make sure they stick to places where there would be less chances of civilians getting hurt, but that’s never guaranteed.  
Making a tight turn, he watches in the mirrors as the car in front ends up going into the sidewalk, crashing into a fire hydrant. That leaves only, what, ten others chasing them down? He sneaks a quick glance at Dick in the backseat, who’s only sort of strapped in with his seat belt. It can’t be the best of positions, especially with all the moving around, but Dick’s flexible. He’ll make it work.  
“How’s your leg doing?” he calls out, stepping on the gas to speed up just as a yellow light turns red, hoping that someone would be dumb enough to go forwards on the green and take out one of the cars for him.  
Dick grimaces, readjusting it to account for the sudden force, doing his best not to fall over. The seats are getting stained with blood, but all things considered, it’s not as bad as it could have been. The bullet that hit him didn’t get anything important, and had a clean exit so they don’t need to worry about getting it out. There’s just a lot of blood and the risk of bleeding out. “Terrible, why do you ask?” Fake laughing only hurts his ribs, so he stops, focusing on staying awake and alert enough to clean it up.  
They both know it isn’t the time for jokes, so Tiger knows that while he’s trying to diffuse the situation with humor, Dick’s words are still true. And that’s a bad thing. Giving him medicine from Spyral was risky enough as it is, but it’s supposed to be fast acting. Not feeling any better can’t be good. If he’s in too much pain, he’s no good as an agent, and Tiger could use all the help he can get.  
“I’ve got to lose this tail, I can’t help you until we’re safe. Can you toss me your gun?” The fight had been hard. Being ambushed at the motel was far from what they had been expecting to wake up to. And Dick... he’s always been one to push himself too far. Told Tiger to help himself, to get out of there, that he’d handle it. Bit off more than he could chew, took on more than he could fight. Took a bullet to the leg and probably worsened the injury by continuing to fight. If Tiger hadn’t stayed there, he wouldn’t have made it out.  
Something lands on the passenger seat, something that Tiger instantly grabs, holding the gun in his left hand while the right grabs the steering wheel. “I’m so sorry about this. Hold on!” Swinging to the left, he rolls the window down, trying to aim the best he can. The first shot bounces off a brick wall- okay, so that failed. The second shot is closer, hitting the tire of the car in front, sending them swerving over the road. Gritting his teeth, he fires three more shots. One goes through a windshield, the next hits nothing important, just putting a hole in the side of a car.  
Third times the charm. The engine goes up in flames, and Tiger speeds aways before he can see what damage it did. There’s no one left chasing them. He breathes a sigh of relief, and adjusts his route to get out of the city.

It’s not breaking and entering. It’s totally different. The owners left the key in a really easy to find spot, that’s not his fault. Getting in didn’t require breaking anything. Dick doesn’t go far inside, stays on the hardwood floors and simply lays on the ground while Tiger rushes for the kitchen, finding a hand towel and getting it wet.  
“Not infected yet. We’ll have to keep it clean.” Dick doesn’t have a change of pants, but there’s probably some in the house. Tiger doesn’t feel too guilty cutting through the fabric, getting it out of the way. The bleeding has mostly stopped, he cleans the dried blood around it. Dick had been applying pressure during the drive, and had dumped around half a bottle of isopropyl alcohol on it. Tiger can’t bring himself to be mad about wasting what little supplies they have left. “Can you walk?”  
“I made it in here, didn’t I?” Then it was a no, considering how Tiger had to carry him inside before having him cling to the stair railing so he could lower himself to the ground. “We’ve got to keep on moving.”  
The owners won’t be back for a while. Tiger had seen their calendar while in the kitchen, and they were taking a month long cruise. Enough time for them to spend at least a week crashing in their house. “Not with your leg like that. We’re staying here. If I get you on the couch, will you stay still while I look through their bathrooms?”  
Dick sighed, but let Tiger help him up, maneuvering him into a comfortable position before handing him his bag. “You need something to keep you busy, look through what we have and make a list of what we need. I’ll go shopping later today, get something better than fast food for dinner.” Just the thought of a good dinner made both of them feel better. They’ve been living in motels, cars, and gas station bathrooms. Being on the run sucks.  
There’s no cameras, the home owners likely didn’t think their house would be broken into. There’s also no evidence of pets or kids, so it’s also unlikely that anyone would be coming over. Tiger grabs pain meds from the bathroom, and a pair of pants that should fit Dick from the closet. For a moment, he feels a bit bad about it, but shrugs off the feeling. Sacrifices have to be made, and the cost right now is just a few things from an unsuspecting family.  
It’s not until something catches his sight out of the corner of his eye that he knows he’ll have a real present for Dick.

“We need more food, obviously, you’re running low on those protein bars you like, and we could use some more bug spray. Must have left most of our stuff back at that motel, we’ve only got a few gauze pads left and we go through those things like- hey, watcha got there?”  
Tiger holds up the crutch triumphantly, and Dick swears. “Fuck, they’ve got one of those things? Hell yeah, gimme it!” He reaches out his hands like a small child might, making small grabby fists that make him seem adorable despite all the blood and sweat and grime he’s yet to clean off.  
“They also left the kitchen mostly stocked. Get upstairs and take a shower, I’ll make something to eat.” They can stop at any old convenience store to sort out their other pressing needs. For now, a nice meal sounds like heaven. While Dick maneuvers up the stairs, Tiger busies himself with looking through the cabinets. Until he hears the water running, and he takes out the menus the house owners had gone through the trouble of saving.  
Was using the landline a risk? Maybe. Was it one that he’d gladly take? Oh, without a doubt. He knows Dick well enough to know that he probably wouldn’t come back down for a while, which gives him more than enough time to work.

Dick had a lot running through his head. The most pressing issue was his wound, but he was on pain meds and didn’t really feel it. Apparently, whatever the home owners used was super strong, and Dick can’t help but wonder if they’ve got any masked business. It felt like a minor horse tranquilizer. But finding out more about the owners was low on his list of priorities, right below stocking up on sunscreen.  
He rummaged through the drawers a bit, hesitant at first to take a stranger’s underwear but relenting to himself and putting it on if only because it’s better than going without. He must be around the same size as the husband, the dark gray shirt he pulls on fits him well.  
“Hey Tony, you need anything from up here? I can see if these guys had any guns stashed away.” When there’s no response, he calls out again, leaning ever so slightly down the stairs. “Tony?”  
Not even a sigh of annoyance at the nickname. Something’s up. Dick draws his gun from the holster he had just put on, limping down the stairs as he tries to keep it held out. It’s harder than he expected, but he gets to the bottom in one piece, so he’s fine with it.  
“Agent 1, respo- oh.” If not for his restraint, the gun would have clattered to the ground. Instead, it’s tucked back away as Dick stares at the sight. “What’s all this?”  
“It’s your birthday.” Tiger states simply, holding out the plate. A donut with a single candle stuck in it. “I figured you were upset you didn’t have your family to celebrate it, and I was planning on doing something better but that feel apart now that we’re on the run but you still deserve something- are you crying?”  
“I dunno, are you actually rambling? The stoic Tiger, sounding like a- like a lovestruck fool? Or, well, you know, not like, the whole love part, I mean, I definitely ramble when I’m in love with someone-” He takes the donut, if just to try and shut himself up. “I like, only mentioned it once though, I can’t believe you remembered.” Because that’s a lot better topic than before.  
Tiger takes a bite of his own donut as Dick takes a seat on the blanket he’s spread out on the ground. He’ll have to remember to put in a good review for the nice employee who helped him once they get through this whole ordeal. “I don’t think I ever could have forgotten.” he mutters, averted eyes not catching the glance that Dick tosses his way.  
Across from him, Dick blows out the candle, takes a bite, and then laughs, crumbs spewing every which way. “What’s so funny?” Tiger raises an eyebrow as Dick starts wheezing. “Are you feeling okay?”  
“You like me.” Dick states. “Holy cow, you actually like me. I genuinely don’t know how I’m only seeing this now. We- I shared a bed with you for-” he counts up on his fingers, “what, three months now? As friends? Just as- how did I not see it.”  
There’s a lot that Tiger could say now, could confess and get all poetic and soft like he only does when he’s alone. Yet all he can get out is a very small “Happy birthday.” before there’s a sudden knock at the door. “That was fast. Ready for a fight?”  
“Wow,” Dick says sarcastically, “way to change the topic. I’m not done with this, don’t think I’ll forget about it.” Tiger hurries to grab everything while Dick takes an escrima stick with one hand, holding his gun out at the ready with the other. “Although, this is how most of my birthdays ended. Just like Gotham, amiright? Yeah, happy birthday to me. Love ya, Tony.”  
Despite it all, despite all the pain and the suffering and the constant fear, the isolation from his family, Dick was truly happy. Just to have a moment with the man he loved? Yeah, this was the best birthday.


	2. Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also unsatisfied with this ending! Will I ever like the endings to anything I write? Maybe not! Who knows!  
> So today is technically day three but I wrote all of this a day late and a lot of the day's fill actually but it's still not done, so I'll get that done tomorrow and hopefully spit out something quick for day four (miscommunication) since I didn't really have any ideas for that. If that sentence makes any sense to anyone.  
> Trigger warnings! There's gun violence, death (in a dream, but still), it's mostly just from a dream sequence that I put in to show Tiger's trauma, so yay. There's also a lot of these two idiots being cute together so it's coolio.

Plain beige walls surrounded Tiger, seeming taller than they really are from his spot on the ground in the center of the room, laying on his side. With legs feeling like they’re encased in cement, he stood with shaky limbs, looking around. No windows, no tables or decorations at all. Just one large door behind him, white trim and a large black handle. He grasped it, questioning the noise it made when it turned. On the other side, he could see that it had been smashed by something heavy, possibly a bullet, which would have annihilated the lock.  
Training quickly took over. He stuck to the walls, keeping low, sneaking quick glances out the windows he passed by. It looked just like his home back in Afghanistan, except there were none of the vibrant colors. Normally, there’d be colored fabrics hanging in the streets or shading the various vendors, people running around and children playing. Funny, now that he looked, he couldn’t see any signs of life at all. The air was completely still.  
Continuing down the hall, Tiger looked for a way out. Yet despite all the twists and turns, it didn’t seem to have an end. There weren’t any more doors, just windows looking over the same view no matter where he was. Just how big was this building? It was all just the same things over and over and-  
“Tiger.” a weak voice gasped, and he broke into a sprint.  
He’d know that man anywhere. “Richard!” he yelled, the echoes of his footsteps impossibly loud, reverberating through the air, returning his call to him a thousand times over. It spoke in different voices. Once it was a girl yelling, then a young boy, then the sound of someone screaming as if pleading for their life. Tiger didn’t stop running, couldn’t stop chasing after a voice that didn’t seem to be getting any closer.  
“Tiger,” Dick’s voice continued, “please, you have to save me. Please, don’t just leave me here.” Something deep inside him said that he was wrong. Dick would never say something like that. He’s a reckless vigilante with a bad case of always putting his life after others, never having any concern for what happened to him as long as everyone else is okay.  
The world seemed to blur as Tiger picked up speed, and then it actually was blurring, the scene starting anew as the voice changed it’s tone. “Tiger,” Dick said, clutching his hands to the spot on his shirt that was beginning to turn red with blood, “why did you do this?”  
“What? I didn’t-” When did he put his gun in his hand, why was there smoke coming from the muzzle? “No. I couldn’t have. Richard, you have to believe me-”  
“You’re a monster.” he spits. “My blood’s on your hands, you’re the one who did this.” For a second, he seems to look behind him, his pain clear on his face. “And all of theirs.”  
Whirling around, Tiger tries to catch his breath, losing his footing and falling to the ground. Women, men, children, dead bodies in a heap, blocking his way out as a wall formed on the other side, closing him in. He’s always been a little claustrophobic, never liked not having a way out or being stuck somewhere. Dick had compared him to an actual tiger when he found out, a big cat who needed room to pace and be free. His heart felt trapped in his chest, like it was trying to burst out.   
“No.” he stammered, trying to scramble to his feet. Fighting in vain against a force that kept him down, muttering his prayers like they could make it go away. Blood was everywhere, splattered on the walls, pooling up on the floor and spreading towards him without end, staining his hands a dark red.  
“I’ve fought monsters like you before in Gotham. I never killed them, only took them to Arkham, that was the rule. But we’re not in Gotham anymore.” Dick raised his gun, arm steady, and Tiger stayed still as the gunshot went off.

He didn’t realize he was yelling until he was trying to gulp down air, body thrashing around in the blankets, tangling his arms and legs. He couldn’t breath, could still feel the impact on his chest, as if it was real and not just in a dream.   
“Hey, easy there big fella! Breath, come on, just breathe for me.” Tiger’s eyes snapped open, taking only a second to register Dick’s face above him, soft hands on his shoulders in an attempt to calm his struggle. The moment he was able to fully process that fact, he moved to switch their positions, hand pressing against his chest. Breath steady, no blood. He’s healthy. He’s fine.  
“You’re okay.” he says, voice weak and shaky.  
Dick raises an eyebrow, but looks like he’s been in Tiger’s position too much to question his reaction. “Yeah, I’m okay. It’s okay. I’m here for you, no matter what.”  
Tiger thought back to what had happened in his dream, what had been said and accused. “But why?” he asks softly, falling back against the pillows. “How can you love me?”  
For a moment, Dick looked taken aback, shocked at the question. “What? Hey, don’t think like that.” He leans over, stretching out to lay beside Tiger on the bed, wrapping his arms around his side and resting his head in the crook of Tiger’s neck. “You’re perfect, Tiger, you’re amazing and strong and I love you so much.”  
“But I... does it bother you? My past, I mean. The fact that I’ve...” he rolls over slightly so he can be face to face with Dick, bringing one hand up to stroke his hair.  
Dick locks eyes with him, soft and blue and so full of adoration. “Absolutely not.” he states. “Nothing you’ve done makes you a bad person. You’re not a monster. You’re kind, you’re caring, you’re smart... You don’t need to compare yourself to me, if that’s what you’re doing.” he presses a kiss to the stubble that’s starting to grow in along Tiger’s chin, slow and sweet as his other hand finds its way forwards, going underneath his shirt and snaking up Dick’s back. He can feel every scar that his fingers trace over, well known from all the time they’ve spent together like this.  
“In my dream...” he begins, hand coming to a stop by his shoulder blades, “I had killed you. No, I- I had shot you. I found you, and you were bleeding, and I had shot you even though I didn’t remember it.” Tiger tries to remember what had happened before he forgets entirely. “You called me a monster. And then-” The end fades away like smoke, leaving him with only an uneasy feeling in his chest. “It doesn’t matter.”  
“Hmm, I’d say it does, but alright.” Dick kisses him properly this time, locking lips while Tiger’s hand tangles in his hair, pulling it slightly and holding him close. They stayed like that for a while, enjoying the comfort of each other’s company, content in the fact that they’re still good, and if they are monsters, well, at least they’re together.  
By the time they get up to get breakfast, Tiger’s feeling a lot better, no longer feeling phantom pains or blood on his hands. He’s no angel, but he’s no monster either. And as he looks at Dick, light streaming in from the window making a halo around his head, he knows that he’s been lucky enough to have an actual angel with him.


	3. Formal Event

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I said I wasn't gonna do any too long fics anymore, but screw that, because I had way too much fun with this prompt. Meant I didn't get anything for day 4, but that's fine, because I still don't have any ideas for that one, so it might be skipped until the end. Oh well. Hopefully it's all understandable! Absolutely none of these fics are edited ;) There probably are a few continuity errors just because I have to fun talent of forgetting what I've written, so like, the first two paragraphs might not fit in with later stuff, but just ignore it. It's fine. If I don't look at it the problem goes away. ;)

When Dick had barged into Matron’s room, she was more than a little incredulous, to say the least. When he finished his long winded speech about what he wanted her to do, she was thinking that he was completely ridiculous. As she had explained it to him many times before, he was a fool, an idiot, and would certainly fuck something up with any complicated plans since he can never stay on them. Nonetheless, she gave in to his persistence. More to get him to stop than because he convinced her, but Dick doesn’t need to know that.  
It took a lot of waiting, then, to actually set his plan into motion. Specifics that Dick usually wouldn’t have bothered with, but put more thought into than when he was actually in a fight. The fact that she saw the extremes he was going to and was still helping him out really said a lot about Matron’s character. And his even more. But all in all, it was rather simple, and what was the harm? They’d still get work done.

It had gone like this. Matron was the first to know when the two agents had went from being partners to being partners. In hindsight, she should have seen it coming. Agent 37 needed someone to keep him serious, Agent 1 needed the opposite, to loosen up. It was natural that they’d either end up hating each other or getting along too well. The pairing hadn’t been given that level of thought, of course, Agent 8 was gone and that left Tiger without a partner. He was the best, and Dick could help him even more, and just like that, Matron had accidentally played matchmaker.   
When Tiger confided to her in private about what had happened, how Dick had suddenly kissed him, she was the one to encourage him to talk about how he felt. Later, Dick came to her as well, inquiring about what the rules were regarding agents falling in love, more specifically about two agents being lovers. She told him that Spyral didn’t give a shit as long as they didn’t get compromised and did their job, except not exactly in those terms. It was a formal talk, in which she totally didn’t hint that the two should be together. She only suggested that he should consider what would be best for the partnership.  
A few days later she walked in on the two getting... well, it wasn’t too bad, it just wasn’t a sight she thought she would have seen. She yelled at them to get ready before slamming the door, hoping that Dick wouldn’t be teaching the students at St. Hadrien’s gymnastics with hickeys on his neck.  
From there, it was a few months since she had anything to do with the relationship. She knew that it was still going well, and she supported it. Both agents were at the top of their game, both never let their love and affections turn into a weakness. Rather, they turned it into a strength, much like the armies of Sparta which was comprised of lovers. They thought that love made you stronger. Not everyone benefited from it, but Tiger and Dick had always been exceptional. 

“...And I’m thinking, okay, maybe he just doesn’t like formal events! But then we do recon at those things and he’s fine with it. Is it me? Is it just the context, is he scared to go to one as a date?” Finally, an end to the rant. Dick was lounging on Matron’s bed (uninvited, of course) while she did her hair, and she hated to agree with stereotypes, but the whole scenario certainly did fit the feel of a gay man trying to explain his problems to a lesbian.   
“Just take your time, I’m sure it’ll be fine. No need to panic or anything.” she replied patiently.   
“We’re spies. We never know when our time is going to run out! Please, Matron, you have to help me out.” She hated to admit it, but he had a good point. Facing down death is practically in their job description.  
He’s lucky that he managed to catch her when she was in a good mood after a major win for Spyral last night, and that he had worn her down after several other rants about his relationship and asking for her help to get dates. “Fine. If, by any chance, it comes up, I’ll send you and Agent one on a reconnaissance mission to some... formal event. Now, go and get ready. In the meantime, you two have actual work to be doing.”  
“Yes ma’am!”

The files were delivered together, since Dick had essentially moved into Tiger’s room by that point. He read over both of them, sent Matron a quick message to confirm what he was seeing, then eagerly handed his over to Tiger when he returned from the bathroom, an excellent chance for him to crack a joke at Dick’s expense.   
“So soon? This says that it’s tonight.” Tiger scanned the details, already committing the fake names to memory.  
“Yeah, well, apparently it’s pretty last minute, they just got the intel last night. And look on the bright side! At least you don’t have to do a french accent for the entire night. You think Spyral has a booklet on how to act like someone with a job in... in some high level communications field? Or could I just do some technobabble the whole time? It’s not like I can’t talk about it for ages, being a vigilante gets you a lot of knowledge that no sane person really needs to know.” He’s told Tiger all about the crazy things he did as Nightwing before, sharing all the stories about hacking and disarming bombs and nearly dying several times over, and Dick still manages to blow his mind with all the random trivia he knows.  
Tiger gives him a once over, recalling the suits that Spyral provided them last time they went to a dinner event. “You’ll be fine, Richard. Just turn on the charm like you usually do, and you won’t have any trouble.”  
“Aww, Tig! Who knew you could be so swe- that’s your way of telling me my only role is to be the eye candy, isn’t it?” Catching the pillow that Dick threw at him with ease, Tiger grabbed his arm, spinning around so Dick fell onto the bed while he could stand over him. “H-hey! What about getting ready?”  
“We have enough time. Besides, we still need to wait to get the suits in the first place. We have our orders, no one will need us in the meantime. You can’t pretend to be mad at me forever.”

A typical event like this dinner would see both agents dressed in plain black and white suits, nothing that would stand out. This time, though, Dick has Matron to thank for the upgrade to their arrangements. He’s all dressed up in grey and blue, and Tiger’s black suit has a yellow vest and tie that Dick keeps on insisting he looks pretty in.   
They enter the rented out hall together, seamlessly merging with another group of businessmen, easily identifiable from convenient name tags, who already look like they’ve started drinking. Dick knows the type. Those who don’t want to be there and just get drunk the whole time because they have enough money to preserve their public image if something goes wrong. At least their wives look like they’re having fun.  
“You have a visual yet?” Tiger’s voice comes in through the comm piece in his ear, made to look like just a regular bluetooth earpiece.  
“Relax, we just got here! They’ll probably arrive fashionably late, those types of guys always do. Trust me, I’ve been going to these things since I was young.” Resisting the urge to itch his eyes as to not smudge the eyeliner he had taken such care in applying, Dick takes a champagne glass from a waiter instead, settling for blinking a lot to try and relieve the itch of the Hypnos. Drinking on the job might be frowned upon, so he swirls the drink around and goes to join in a conversation.  
Chatting up a bunch of rich assholes is incredibly easy. All Dick has to do is get close enough to a few hanging around the grand piano stationed by the end of the hall, and they’re immediately inviting him in. “Well hello there, Mr. Beaumont! Say, how do you know Mr. Flemming? I don’t believe I’ve seen you around before. And I think we’d take notice of someone like you at the office.”  
Time to turn up the charm. “Oh, I’m just a business associate. In communications! I was visiting England for a meeting, and Mr. Flemming just sent me an invitation this morning after learning I was in town. He’s rather generous, isn’t he?” Dick leaves out the part about how Mr. Flemming also might be hosting the mob during this little rendezvous.   
His lie is accepted, and he’s able to just sit back and relax, halfway answering questions about what it’s like in France while doing his best to extract information. The best way is to be subtle, and ask the right questions. It’s the easiest way to get the right information you want to hear. By the time he leaves to meet Tiger by the food, he’s got some more details on who he might be meeting with and what their business might be. Along with several offers to put his drinks on other tabs.  
“Okay, you were right. I’m the pretty flirty one. And Mr. Flemming is the corrupt one who’s meeting with a bunch of dudes who work with a company called Gimondi Law, which is for like, bankruptcy, or helping him get away with stealing a bunch of money. They’re also kind of sketchy, several people working there have been arrested, and they’re probably just some really organized crime.” Dick helps himself to the small sandwiches they have out. As far as taste goes, they’re not as good as the ones Alfred makes, but the taste is at least familiar.  
“Good. There’s a group of men with guns at the bar. See that small round table there? I’ll get close enough to run a facial scan and confirm their identities.” Without waiting for a confirmation, Tiger turns to walk off, only to be stopped by Dick grabbing onto his sleeve. “What? I made a plan, let’s stick to it. I’ll leave the infiltration to you.”  
No way was he letting this opportunity go by. “Nuh uh. No offense, but you’ll look kind of out of place. You’ve got to play up the scene. Come on, dance with me!” For a second, Tiger looks shocked, and Dick stutters an explanation. “I mean, to get closer! Come dance with me to the bar, then you can pretend you’ve got a reason to be there instead of just standing there awkwardly!” He drags Tiger away from the food before he has a chance to protest the new plan, joining the other couples swaying to the beat.  
Alfred had made sure Dick knew how to dance, lessons which came in handy more than he might admit. Despite how whatever song the band was playing seemed to switch tempos every few seconds, he adjusted without a problem. To his credit, Tiger was keeping up well, leaning in close and following Dick’s moves.  
“You, uh, you do look quite nice.” he whispered as the beat picked up.  
Dick batted his long lashes, accented with mascara that may or may not be slightly glittery. “So do you, big guy. Buy me a drink to keep up the act?” His hips brushed a bit too close, and suddenly it was Tiger’s turn to grab his wrist, leading him away from the crowd and towards the bar, where their targets still sat.  
One virgin martini later, Dick’s doing his best to act drunk, way more bubbly and cheerful than he is even normally. He interrupts whatever the targets are talking about when he sits at their table, launching into a small rant on how awfully dull these parties are and how he can’t believe he’s here when he could be having a proper celebration in Paris. Half of the words out his mouth don’t really make sense, but from the way he’s caught their attention, he doesn’t need them to.  
“I’m sorry, gentlemen, my partner here is awful at holding his liquor.” Tiger interjects, facing them from the front. When he turns to Dick and nods ever so subtly, he knows that the scan worked. They have their confirmation.  
“No, you’re just no fun! Hmph. All you wanna do is just expand your business and tell me to leave you alone or that I’m too moral or whatever for what you want to do. And here I thought you might actually want to have a good time.” Get them thinking Tiger might be buying what they’re selling, get them talking. More importantly, make them think that it’s all their idea.  
“I can show you a fun time.” one says, at the same time another leans in towards Tiger and asks “What sort of expanding? We might be able to help.” He politely hands them a fake business card, grabs Dick by the arm, and hauls him away.  
They head to the bathroom, which Dick actually uses while Tiger sends a message to Matron with what they know, then waits by the sinks for him to be done. It doesn’t take an expert to catch the glare. “Did I do something wrong?” Dick asks, grabbing a paper towel to dry his hands off with.  
“I don’t even know what you’re doing. You’ve been acting... strange, I’ll put it that way. Have you interacted with these men before? Are you worried about the mission? I understand that you’d probably rather be the ones fighting instead of just talking, but-”  
“I got us on this mission, okay?” Lowering his head, Dick lets the truth come out. “I wanted to take you to something fancier than cheap restaurants or the movies or whatever other people do as dates, except you wouldn’t have agreed to go, so I went to Matron and convinced her to send us on a recon mission like this the next time one came around so that you’d actually come, and-” It was Tiger’s turn to cut him off, silencing him with a quick kiss that made his head spin.  
“Did you really think you couldn’t just talk to me? Richard, if I had known how happy it would have made you, I’d- I’d have done anything. I love you, I love being your partner even if you are a bit reckless, you’re the best at whatever it is you do. Every time I’m with you I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you in my life. So even when you’re going off of the plan, even when you can’t help but try to save everyone despite the fact that trying might kill you, no matter how many times you’ve done something I might not agree with, I love you, Richard Grayson, and nothing is ever going to change that.”  
There wasn’t anything Dick could say in response to that speech, so he settled for just a small “Wow.” and wrapping Tiger into a tight embrace until he could finally remember what talking is like. “So, you aren’t, like, mad or anything?”  
Tiger’s laugh alone took his breath away. “Well, maybe. You could have just asked instead of making me do extra work. So how about we ditch this place and you can make it up to me? We’ve still got the suits, there’s a nice restaurant at the other end of town...”  
“I thought you’d never ask!”


	4. First Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I wasn't going to write anything too long again. I lied. This is almost 5k words. I have a lot of regrets and simultaneously none at all. I have a short speech due tomorrow that I've been neglecting. This is fine. It's okay.  
> Enjoy y'all, tell me what you think in the comments below, I'm gay for validation and these dorks.

It’s no surprise that Dick has a good idea of how he wants his ideal first kiss to go. He’s a bit of a hopeless romantic, so sue him. Doesn’t everyone imagine the perfect scene? Lights shining, music playing, maybe somewhere in Italy or Greece overlooking a picturesque beach. For Dick, his fantasies involve a bit more Kevlar and spandex than most. That just comes with the territory of being a costumed vigilante.  
From the moment he first saw Tiger, his heart was feeling like it was racing faster than the Flash. He might have a thing for strong guys who are also incredibly hot. Even if said guy called him an idiot and couldn’t stand him at first. Besides, it’s not like he ever let attraction get in the way of doing his job. He didn’t like Spyral and would do his best to put a halt to whatever they’re doing, saving people while trying to keep them from turning too far towards villainy. No doubt they’d be able to do it easily despite him, but he’d like to think that he’s doing some good.  
Yet if there’s one thing that needs to be known about Dick Grayson, it’s that he’s very, very, very bad at making the first move. No matter how flirty and charming he acts. Asking people out is difficult, no one can blame him for that. Especially when the man he likes has given off no indication that he’s anything but straight, and probably would never be into someone like him.   
Times moves on as it always does. Dick gets an out, he gets his way back to Gotham. Spyral’s in ruins, but Tiger’s there to help pick up the pieces. He’ll get them running again, Dick knows he will. He leaves his heart there, still burning the same flame, but knowing that there’s practically no chance that he’ll ever see Tiger again. Somehow, it hurts more than every cut and scrape and bullet he’s ever taken.

There is one thing that’s good. Okay, several, but they all sort of link together into one massive blob of happiness. He’s back to being himself, he’s back in Gotham with his family, he’s back to flipping off of buildings and the thrill of falling. Jason jokingly called it the circus instinct once, and he’s not exactly wrong. Dick’s an acrobat, has been and will be for the rest of his life. He needs movement and adrenaline like others need food. Fortunately, being Nightwing gives him more than enough opportunities.  
He’s eating a bowl of Lucky Charms at midnight when he gets the call, a number that his phone says is unknown but he recognizes instantly. “What’s up, dad?”  
“The Mad Hatter. I’ll send you the coordinates.” The line dropped, no doubt so Bruce could move on to calling the next in line. Tim, maybe. If there’s tech to be dismantled, he’s the best choice. Abandoning his bowl and hoping that Alfred wouldn’t yell at him for leaving it on the counter, Dick heads for the Batcave, getting on his suit while the information is sent over. It’s not too far, only a few minutes away considering how he speeds past traffic on his motorcycle. There might have been a few flashes of cameras, and he knows that he passes by a few cops. It’s not like any of them would pull over a vigilante though.  
To his surprise, it’s Duke and Steph who meet him at the scene. Bruce is nowhere to be seen there, but knowing him, he’s probably just hiding somewhere out of sight. “What’s going on?” he greets them, giving Steph a quick hug and Duke a fist bump.  
“Well, it was the Hatter. Then there were these other dudes who came in, he’s just gone without a trace, super annoying, and Bats is watching them now. We aren’t sure what’s going on, but we’re still here just in case.” Steph takes a seat a top the low barrier that surrounds the entrance they’re crowded around. “He doesn’t really want me though, I just intercepted the message and left T- Red Robin at home. He’s finally getting some sleep, I didn’t want to disturb him.”  
Duke sends him the messages they had been sent, pictures taken of the inside and the go ahead to move in whenever. Something strikes Dick as wrong, but he can’t pinpoint the exact cause. Maybe he’s still off his game. He hasn’t been back in Gotham that long. “Huh. How did he vanish? Is there anyway he could have gotten out without any of us noticing?”  
Steph shakes her head. “We’ve been monitoring cameras by any possible exits. He’s either still in there, or he’s managed to slip by us. And he isn’t exactly known for being good at that. But if that Bat isn’t seeing anything from him...”  
“Yeah, that is weird. Spoiler, Signal, wanna go in with me? Or I can go in alone, I’m good at sneaking around. See if I can get a good look at who these other guys are.” The two vigilantes nod, and Dick points at three windows, each looking around ten meters away from each other on the third floor. “Those good for entrance points?”  
“Absolutely.” Steph fires off a grappling hook, and he doesn’t wait around for Signal to get moving before he’s going, running forward before firing, electromagnets built into the gloves helping him keep ahold of the the grapple as it pulls him off the ground.   
Night vision lenses help him make his way forward, watching Duke and Steph break off to the right and left respectively. Duke’s used to working during the day, basically the only Bat to do so, but he’s still good in the dark. Besides, it isn’t like there isn’t any light around. Dim lights flicker every couple of yards, small flares blinking on and off rapidly, adding to the moon’s light coming in from the windows.  
It’s a while before he can get a good look at what’s going down, or what has gone down, on the first floor, when the floor comes to a sudden stop and there’s an open area in front of him. The crates laying around, he’d think, are left behind from whatever the Hatter was planning. Someone’s unconscious on the ground, a hired thug. How many were there? Only one wouldn’t make sense, but neither would so many being able to get away. He sends the question to Bruce, who he still hasn’t spotted. Also concerning. There isn’t any signs of life other than the occasional glimpses of Steph and Duke, even looking around with infrared to scan for heat.  
“I’m moving down to the first floor.” he whispers. “One of you can come down with me, the other, move and do a quick scan of the upper floors.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Steph approach the edge, leaning over to get a grappling hook around the ledge of the third floor, vaulting over while releasing it so she slowly descends to the ground below her. Dick doesn’t bother with that, simply leaping down and landing with a simple roll.  
She follows the hand signals he gives, darting out of sight to cover him as he moves out, looking around for answers. The whole situation was strange, or at least, stranger than what they usually encounter in Gotham. There’s psychopathic clowns running around all the time, nothing can top that. But people seemingly disappearing into thin air? That doesn’t happen unless you’re with one of the Bats.   
Maybe Dick really is off his game. After all, he doesn’t notice the figure sneaking up behind him until Steph is yelling, grappling hook winding around their arms and stopping them in their tracks. Then he’s able to swing around, getting in one good punch they’re being yanked away, grapple winding back up and leaving them in hopefully a bit of shock. The end of Steph’s staff slams into their hand, stopping them from picking up the gun at their side.  
The dawning comprehension has Dick reeling, taking a step back while the Spyral agent tries to avoid Steph’s attacks. He signals for her to slow down as he gets closer, so she opts to aim for the legs, giving Dick a chance to grab ahold of their arms. “Tsuchigumo.” he whispers, and watches as the agents collapses. God, he had hated that when it could have been used against him. Now, it’s actually working for him. Good thing it hadn’t been changed.  
The good part? They won’t be awake for a while, and can’t use their Hypnos against any of them. The downside is that they can’t try to get answers. “What did you do?” Steph asks, rifling through the agent’s pockets for anything that might give them a bit of a clue.  
“It’s, uh, it’s complicated. You know the spy group I worked for when you all thought I was dead? They’re from it. Apparently, Spyral’s been busy since I left.” There’s blood around the agent’s eyes. They had been using the Hypnos. The question is, who was on the receiving end? “We’ve got to crack this. Signal, with us. Don’t let them talk to you, don’t be concerned by not being able to see their faces. I’m going further down.”  
Down to the basement, that is. It should be the lowest floor, and since Signal didn’t see anything else, it’s got to be where the rest of them are. It’s the only option left. Steph opens the door for him, pulling it open ever so slowly to avoid any loud noises. At the first squeak of the stairs, it’s apparent that her effort was useless. Everyone will know that he’s down there, and they’re already asking questions, if the noise of several sets of feet is any sort of judge.  
Screw it. Jumping down is easy enough to do without being seen, and after a few seconds, one lone agent is sent to look for the source while the rest go back to whatever they’ve been doing. He stays out of sight, and sure enough, the noise is dismissed. Dick could have sighed in relief if that wouldn’t be too loud.  
It’s a good thing all of these factory type places have the boxes everywhere. Good cover for anyone sneaking around. In fact, it’s almost too easy for him to get close. Way too easy. Another mistake: not noticing that.  
He certainly takes notice when a strong hand grabs onto the back of his suit, right by his neck, throwing him towards the group. “Found our rat.” they state, and dammit, where’re the others when he could use them? Twisting around in the air like a cat, Dick lands on his feet, but not fast enough to escape the gun being pointed straight at him. The safety clicks off, and his mind runs through scenarios, but there’s no way it ends without a fight.  
“Wait.” Someone’s walking towards him. Someone big, and strong, and- “Richard?”  
“Tiger!” he yells, unable to stop the smile that’s spreading across his face despite the situation. Over the comms, someone yells, asking if he’s alright, but he doesn’t let that concern him. “Holy shit, what are you doing in Gotham?”  
“What are you doing in that suit?” Tiger replies, but his voice is a touch softer this time around. “The last time I saw you, Spyral was falling apart, and I just woke up one day and you weren’t there. I thought you were dead until I heard that Nightwing was back in Gotham. I had no idea you had left us.”  
Dick hadn’t really given much thought to how leaving would have impacted Spyral. It was hard, he knew they weren’t exactly fans of when agents quit, but with the whole organization in crisis, no one would have been giving it much thought. There were a lot of agents dying, what was one going missing? Of course Tiger would have thought he was dead.  
“I was only in Spyral to infiltrate it. I-in the first place, of course. There’s a whole bunch of other shit, but, uh, that doesn’t really matter. You know. I ended up getting kind of attached to y- er, it, but then my job was over and I had to get out. I had... I had wanted to tell you. But if I missed my chance, I’d be stuck, and I didn’t know how much longer it’d take for another chance to return to come around, so I left.” Dick puts his hands up, showing he won’t be a threat as he takes a few steps towards Tiger. “I, uh, really did miss you, though.”  
“Patron, what should we do?” Dick whipped his head around to stare at the agent who spoke, who’s still being rude and holding his gun out, and then back at Tiger.  
“Well, fuck me.” he muttered in disbelief. “Patron? They’re calling you Patron. You’re- holy shit, Tig, you’re fucking running Spyral?” Okay, there’s no way the others didn’t hear that, but hopefully they’ve gotten the idea that he isn’t in danger.  
The glare that Tiger gave him was impressive. “I was the top agent, it’s only natural that I fill any needed leadership positions. Would you...” was he actually blushing? ”Would you like to, uh, catch up later on? I’ve got business to do here right now, but afterwards, I don’t have anything to do.”  
Right, he had to be the hero. “Business in Gotham is business with the Bats. You need something, you can either ask us now, or we can take you down. Your choice. Oh, and coffee later sound excellent”  
“My bad. You do realize I beat you every time we sparred, right? And are there any places that are still open this late?”  
“Welcome to Gotham, the land of twenty four seven stores. And, oh yeah, I had been holding back.” In what felt like the blink of an eye, his escrima sticks were drawn, and he was leaping to the side, striking the agents square in the back of the head. They’ll wake up with a nasty headache, but fortunately, not much permanent damage. The next was just as easy to take down, spinning around and hitting them with a kick to the chest followed by a charge of enough volts to get them to stop and give Dick the opportunity to hit them in, well, in the dick.  
The rest go down in the same way, just as easily, until it’s just him and Tiger standing. Neither Spoiler nor Signal are there, so they’ve probably left. They know that he’ll get out of danger by himself if he needs to. “Still sure Spyral wants to do this?”  
“They might not have. Personally, I’m looking forward to this.” Tiger’s first strike connects, a heavy hit to his side and ow, maybe Dick wasn’t the only one who had been holding back. Oh well, he can play this game as well. For every hit he takes, there’s a few that he dodges, too fast and agile for them to be able to land. But the ones that do land hurt. A lot. And he can tell that Tiger isn’t slowing down despite everything he does. Because he’s still holding back. Shock him and end it, his brain is screaming, but despite the sticks still being in his hand, he can’t bring himself to charge them up.  
Tiger won’t hurt him. There’s no way either of them is actually fighting to take down the other. If anything, it’s the opposite. It’s just a normal sparring session, just with a lot more mixed emotions. So Dick takes a chance, just like he does every time he goes and leaps without looking. When he makes a slight mistake, it isn’t an accident, it’s what he wants to happen. If Tiger knows that, he doesn’t show it, not giving Dick any mercy as he whirls him around, slamming him against the ground.  
“Looks like I’m still winning.” The way that Tiger’s leaning over him is totally unfair, that low voice giving him so many thoughts, all of them wrong. Is he even aware of how hot he is? “I missed this.”  
“Aw, you missed being close to me? That’s so sweet.” With the way his head is turned to the side, he can barely see Tiger out of the corner of his eyes, but he doesn’t miss the way his muscles seem to twitch, or the way his grip loosens ever so slightly. Taking advantage of his slight lapse in form, Dick gets onto his knees, scooting away a few feet. “Wait, really?”  
In the dark, it’s hard to see the red blooming on Tiger’s cheeks, but Dick’s able to make out a slight change in color. “I... may have missed your company, yes. Over time, when we were partners, we had gotten quite close, and I had become oddly fond of you.”  
Without the pain throughout his entire body, Dick might have thought he was dreaming. Otherwise, he’d assume that there’s no way this scenario is real. “You liked me? As in, like liked me?” His heart was pounding again, and not just from the fight.  
Tiger groaned, sitting down and resting his head in his hands. “Are you really going to make me say it?”  
“Oh, you know it. I’ve been gone for only a few months and haven’t lost my charm or ability to be a nuisance. Come on, Tig, spit it out.”  
“Alright, if it’ll make you shut up. I... had loved you.” He wouldn’t be able to see it behind the white lenses, but Dick blinked slowly, caught up in his word choice.  
“You say you had liked me. What about now?” The words hurt more than he thought they would. Even if Tiger had confessed that he loved Dick, it would have stung after being apart for so long.  
Taking a deep breath, Tiger moves so that the two are facing each other, taking Dick’s hands in his own. “I’m not sure. I know that I loved you. I would have followed you wherever you had gone. Dick, if you told me you were leaving... I would have left with you. But I had no idea what you were doing, I thought you had left me, that you didn’t feel anything for me if you were able to just walk away like that. And then they needed a leader, and ended up looking to me... I had to let my feelings die. I had to move on.”  
“O-oh.” What can he even say in response? Sorry, but I thought you were the one who was uninterested? I was so afraid of being rejected that I never even thought you might have accepted me? “Do you think they could, you know...”  
“Come back?” Tiger leans in, close enough that Dick could close the gap easily if he wanted to. “Yes, I believe they could.”  
There’s a few seconds in which both are waiting for the other to make a move, until the moment passes, and they’re just staring at each other in awkward silence. Dick is the first to move, jumping to his feet, ignoring the protest coming from every part of him. “So. Um. Coffee? I’ll buy.”  
Tiger accepts the hand he extends, not letting go even when he’s up. “That sounds excellent. We do have much to talk about. I’m not entirely sure how we ought to proceed. You’re, well, you’re Nightwing, and I’m leading Spyral now. It’s complicated.”  
“But we’ll figure it out. We always do.” As if his brain finished computing all that was going on, his earlier tasks came rushing back. “Oh, shit. Where’s Batman? He was here before, I don’t know where he had gone, he was still inside but none of us saw him!” Not thinking at hundreds of miles per hour had been nice while it lasted. Now everything was coming crashing back down on him. “What would he even think about the two of us being together?”  
“He says to go get some!” Dick jumped at Steph’s voice suddenly flooding his comm, high pitched and far too loud. “Okay, so he didn’t say exactly that, I did, but I inferred. He hasn’t said anything about his opinion so far which means he either thinks it’s good and doesn’t want to admit it or you managed to actually annoy him or piss him off so much he’s leaving the speech for you personally back home.”  
“And I’m turning this off now. B, just tell me what had happened with the mission later, I’ve already imagined you screaming in my head and decided that I’ll just ignore anything negative you say.” Whatever he started to say as a reply was cut off as Dick shut off his comm, removing the small device and slipping it into a pocket instead. “Alright, now we’ve really got some time to ourselves.” he jokes as he turns back to Tiger, who’s oddly silent. “Uh, Tig? You there?”  
Without warning, a strong arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him close as Tiger tilted his head down, capturing Dick’s mouth with his. At first, he lets out an undignified little yelp, but quickly relaxes into the embrace. God, this is what he’s wanted for so long, the flame in his heart quickly rekindling into a roaring inferno. He’s breathless and feeling like he’s floating and like he’s being shocked, electricity humming under his skin. Is that what magic feels like? Dick’s never been like this with anyone in the past. It’s intoxicating.  
Words fail him for a few minutes after they pull apart, much to Tiger’s apparent happiness. Dick stays silent as he leads him out, though a series of tunnels which, yes, he hadn’t known about. When he finally does speak up, it’s a string of incomprehensible gibberish, still unable to form proper words and sentences.  
“What’s that? Tiger got your tongue?” At that, Dick lets out a small grunt, jokingly shoving Tiger away, although only to as far as their hands can still reach.   
They reach the car that the agents had used, but as Tiger fishes the keys out of his pocket, Dick interjects, brain working just enough to help him get the point across. “It’s a lot more noticable, but I’ve got my motorcycle parked by the other end. A lot more fun for a first date, whatcha say?”   
At no point will he admit that he screamed during the ride to what Dick claimed to be the best coffee shop in all of Gotham. It’s just that Dick is an incredibly reckless driver when in the suit, and it doesn’t help that the bike was custom built to enable him to do, well, exactly that. Drive way too fast, take corners too fast, ignore traffic lights and other cars. Tiger isn’t a stranger to car chases, but with Dick the one in control, it’s a lot more terrifying.

Everything seems to be back to normal in his head by the time Dick has his coffee, Tiger sipping on a cup of tea. He talks about his family, happy to be able to talk freely now. How Damian’s an assassin, Jason’s sort of a crime lord but they don’t talk about it much, and how Tim’s an amazing detective but always pushing himself too hard. Tiger tells him about how Spyral is doing, what it’s like being in charge and all of the craziness that Dick missed out on. How he’s pulling everyone back together.  
“I’m not sure what the future has in store for me. Obviously, I’ll have to leave Gotham someday, I don’t think we’d be fortunate enough to stay together forever.” No one’s there to overhear their conversation, Tiger made sure of it. On any other day, Dick would be swarmed by people wanting to get a picture with the famed Nightwing, which would still be less than when he went out as himself, but a little combination of Hypnos and Tiger’s gun kept everyone away.  
“You need a base though, don’t you? Why don’t you make one in Bludhaven when I return there? I’m the only vigilante in the city, you wouldn’t have to worry about Bats, and it’s not like anyone else can tell you you can’t have it there. You’re the boss.” Dick emptied another sugar into his cup, stirring it as he spoke. “And, you know, being able to come over to my apartment or safehouses whenever you want would be an added benefit.”  
“Hmm...” It was a perfectly good solution. “That sounds nice. For now, how about we find somewhere to sleep? I think I’d be correct in assuming you haven’t gotten much this past night.” Nope, Dick had been unable to fall asleep, hence eating cereal in the middle of the night. He leaves a hundred dollar bill on the table, shoving another one into the tip jar. It’s what the waiters deserve.  
Knowing that Bruce is probably waiting for him once he gets back, and would possibly go berserk if he brought a Spyral agent back to the Batcave, Dick drives to a safe house of his. It’s one that he hasn’t been to since he got back, and he hopes that none of the others crashed it in his absence. To his relief, there’s been no activity reported by the cameras, according to the quick check he did on the way there.  
Standing in the doorway while he tries to remember which key he’s supposed to use in addition to the biometric scan, Tiger’s looking incredibly out of place, glancing around nervously every few seconds. “Relax, no one’s gonna be searching for us. It’s all okay.” He must not sound very convincing, because Tiger’s still uneasy. There’s got to be a way to help out.  
When Dick shoots out a grapple, Tiger’s reaching for him immediately, questioning what his plan is and what’s going on. “Calm down! There’s something I’ve always wanted to try, and I can’t do it indoors.” That’s the only explanation he gets before Dick’s out of sight, flying up into the air as the hook pulls him up. He panics briefly until he hears Dick behind him. “You know, I think this is how I imagined my ideal first kiss. But second’s close enough.  
He gets a split second of warning, whirling around and only barely being able to take in the fact that Dick’s hanging upside down, legs wrapped around the wire while his arms grab Tiger by the shoulders, bringing them together. The kiss is a bit awkward at first, but it’s still enjoyable for the most part. If it’s with the one you love, nothing’s ever bad.   
“Really? That’s what you wanted your first kiss to be like? I thought you’d be the type to want beaches and sunsets, not being a total dork.” Dick dismantled with grace, holding onto the line while swinging his legs back until he could drop to the ground.  
“You’re the one who fell in love with such a dork, now shut up. Also, that scene is so overrated. I might act like a playboy sometimes around civilians, but that’s not me, it’s just to keep up the act. Now, this, is me.” With a flourish, Dick swung open the door, expecting the safe house to look like it usually does. It’s his ‘professional’ one, which he keeps clean and looks high tech and expensive from the very first glance.  
That wasn’t the state it was currently in. “Nevermind. That’s not me. I’m assuming that’s Jason. Give me one second, I need to call my brothers and yell at them.” Avoiding the scorch marks on the floor, Dick stepped inside, Tiger following close behind him. “Did he have Kori over? In my safe house? I swear, I don’t care how much he’s going to hate me for charging him for repairs, I’ll kick his ass if I need to.”  
Tiger smiled as he shut the door behind him while Dick went off on a small rant. True, he did fall in love with a dork. But everything was going to be okay. They had plans for the future, they had shared a first kiss after months of wishing they were still together after even more time spent pining in silence. Yeah, life was good. It was really, really, really good. They were together, and that’s all that matters.


End file.
